


You're getting old

by AngelsFallFirst



Category: Nightwish
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 02:03:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11071749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelsFallFirst/pseuds/AngelsFallFirst
Summary: Just a quick one shot. Smutty and fluffy.





	You're getting old

She had never thought it would come that way.  
But there she was again, naked, in front of him. His greedy eyes upon her.  
It had been a hot day and she was still sweating. Sweat dripped down between her breasts, not getting any less as he pushed his fingers in and out of her.  
Her lipstick was smeared over his face and chest. She had kissed him everywhere her lips could reach.  
She cursed and hissed out his name, spread her legs wide for him. She had missed this so much. Once a year was simply not enough.  
She gasped and grabbed his shoulders, he had hit a very special spot of hers. He always found it, he was the only one who had ever found it. She groaned and leaned her head back, moaned out his name in pleasure and need. Her walls tightened around his fingers and it got harder for him to push them inside.  
Now he moaned her name as well, quietly, hoping that no one would hear them. This was forbidden as something could be, but somehow this made it even more exciting. And it had turned into a ritual, she would come to Finland and he would visit her, just a week before her birthday. Right now he couldn't care about anyone hearing them. There were many people called like them, many people named Tarja and Tuomas could be dating. Or not?  
He grabbed her sweaty body, pulled her up and made it collide with her chest. He was still pushing his fingers inside her, pressing his lips on hers, forced her to kiss him back. She dug his nails into his back, every spasm that went through her body made her gasp.  
Her nails were long and would leave scratches on his back, but she only dug them deeper into his skin. Shall his wife see them, Tarja couldn't care less.  
Her once red lips parted and let out a huge gasp. She was so close. With a loud moan she leaned back and let pleasure overcome her body, screaming his name as if she had never done anything else before.  
He was God, he had to be. Only he could make her lose it like that. With only his fingers.  
She came hard, his name and a loud scream on her lips. He pushed his fingers inside her again and watched her cum. He didn't care about his hand, which was slowly getting flooded by her sticky juices, he enjoyed it even. This was the woman everyone thought she would hate him and that she couldn't even look at him anymore. Lies, lies, lies. They met every year, same day, same place. It was a silent agreement after their first meeting in 2007.  
Same hotel. Ever since then.  
She collapsed on the bed, gasped for air and blindly reached out to him.  
He pulled his fingers out of her, pulled them apart from each other. Her white, musky sented juice left some thin fibrils between his fingers. He moaned.  
"Eat me," the woman on the bed moaned and the man didn't let her ask him twice. He wiped his hands off in his own shirt, oh, he'd smell so much like her the next day. If his wife would notice?  
With a moan he parted her legs and kissed, nipped in her inner thighs. Once those thighs had been tight and muscular, but from year to year they got softer. He didn't care, she was still hot. His lips made their way to her very shaved (or even lasered?) entry. Without another ask for permission, he thrust his tongue between her lips, lapping at her wet walls, playing with her swollen clit. He wrote the ABC onto it with his index finger, making her moan again and again in pleasure. He knew how to bring her there, he had always known. He had fantasised about it for years, over the years and year after year. The fantasies had become more erotic, hotter, the love act had become longer. More sweat, more moans, more screams, more orgasms. And really. Both his fantasies and the reality had become wilder. Last year Tarja had come five times - this time he would top it. Six times, that was the goal. He wanted to show her what she was missing, what she had given up as she had married someone who wasn't worth to get touched.  
After only a short time her walls tightened around his tongue and Tuomas knew that she was close again - especially as she grabbed his head and pushed him closer against her wet cunt.  
"Vittu!" she cursed as she lost it. She repeated his name over and over, sometimes cursed a little. He knew it was over when she was completely quiet. He sat up.  
"How do you do this?" she whispered. "That was the fourth time ... you only touched me so far."  
"These fingers are magic, baby," Tuomas replied and kissed his finngertips. "Fuck ... you turn me so on." He smelled on his fingers, which still smelled like her sweet and milky wetness. He wanted to drink from her all night long.  
He thought back of the time she had been pregnant, oh, she had been so, so needy. And a year after it, he had tasted the milk from her breasts. After all, she was still the inspiration for his songs.  
"Tuomas ..." the dark haired woman whispered and cupped his face. "Oh, Tuomas ... if we only could do that every day ..."  
"Shh, Tarja." Tuomas silenced her with a little kiss. Then he sat up and opened his jeans. "That's why we're here, right? To make it up for the last year ..."  
He bent over her.  
"How's Johanna?" Tarja casually asked.  
"She's good," Tuomas mumbled. Why did Tarja always ask him after his wife soon before he was about to enter her?  
"Children in sight?" Tarja asked, but Tuomas shook his head.  
"I don't want children with her, Tarja."  
Tarja's face fell. "Why not?"  
"Because there's only one woman on this earth with whom I want children and it's not Johanna," Tuomas answered gently and sunk down between her thighs. Tarja gasped.  
"Is it me?"   
"What do you think?"  
Tarja didn't answer, instead she closed her eyes. He was so, so large. He stretched her every time a little more. She knew it was because of the lack of sex she was having.  
"Oh, Tuomas ... fuck ..." She placed her arms over her head. "You're so large, oh God ..."  
"And you're so tight," Tuomas groaned and pushed harder against her. "Can it be that you get tighter every time we meet?"  
"Well yes, no sex, no stretch," Tarja gasped and grabbed his shoulders. "I'm a virgin again, every time we meet."  
He laughed. "What about doing it to yourself?"  
But Tarja only snorted.  
"Not the same ... gosh, yes ..."  
"You're not sleeping with your husband, that's really the best thing I've ever heard." He grabbed her hips and thrust hard. "That turns me on, very much ..."  
Tarja chuckled and then groaned. "Good Lord ... yes, Tuomas, yes ... you're - so good."  
"Only for you, babe." He bit down on her neck, making her lips escape a scream.   
"Ouch! Yes, Tuomas, yes!"  
He sucked greedily, eager to leave a mark. If she left scratches on his back, he wanted to leave love bites on her throat. She screamed out in pleasure and pain and dug her nails even harder into his skin. Tuomas was sure now that he was bleeding. But exactly in that moment, the orgasm overcame him and with one last pushed he released himself. And while he gave her everything he had, she reached the peak as well. She screamed and she moaned, she breathed and sighed. She was still holding onto him as he pulled himself out of her.  
"And now?" she whispered with a happy smile.  
"You want to go on?" Tuomas asked, just as happy as her. Good, there was still one more orgasm waiting for her.  
"Yes, of course. I could go on for the whole night. I haven't had a good sex in months."  
"Why not, by the way?" Tuomas suddenly asked. "What's wrong between ... you two?"  
"Well, Marcelo ... he's so boring. Nothing new, no daring places or weird constellations ... then he always needs exactly ten minutes to -"  
"No details," Tuomas said quickly and Tarja grinned.  
"- ejaculate. And he doesn't care about my climax. Not like you do."  
"I know what you need," Tuomas suddenly said and sat up. "Wait here, okay?" He kissed her nose and quickly rushed into the bathroom.  
"Shower?" Tarja called after him but Tuomas didn't answer.  
He was preparing a bath.  
A while later Tarja entered the bathroom and smiled. He was busy with adjusting the water, making sure it had the right heat. Tarja took off her glasses and placed them on the mirror shelf. She walked towards him and embraced him from behind. Kissed the red trails on his back.  
"Tuomas ... are you happy with Johanna?"  
"No," Tuomas said and took her hands. "I want to divorce her."  
"Oh," Tarja mumbled. "Because of ...?"  
"Many reasons. We fight a lot, have different interests ... And then there's you."  
"Me?"  
"Johanna knows I'm still in love with you."  
"Oh." Tarja's cheeks blushed. "And? What does she think about it?"  
"She says she doesn't really care but ... Well, I think deep inside she does. And that's why she always looks at me with a killer look when anyone mentions you. Or even your name! Johanna's niece is called Tarja, can you imagine how she looked at me when I asked her if Tarja could visit us again?"  
Tarja laughed quietly. "You still love me?"  
"Mhm," he mumbled, turned around and kissed her. "Couldn't possibly stop with those regular dates every year."  
"Oh, Tuomas..." Tarja whispered and kissed his lips. "Come, let us go inside."  
"I'd love that," Tuomas said and turned off the water.  
Together they sank deep into the water, Tuomas on top. Tarja placed her head on the edge of the tub and pulled him down. She kissed him gently.  
"Make love to me," she whispered and Tuomas nodded. Parting her legs, he let himself sink inside of her again. He loved her a lot and he'd show her. This time it was really love making. He poured all his feelings into it, giving her the feeling that she was really loved by someone.  
And she felt it.  
The orgasm was intense and lasted longer than all the others before, and as he pulled his forehead away from her shoulder, his face was wet. And his hair hung down loosely. Tarja chuckled and patted his cheek.  
"Are you doing anything about those scars?" she asked him.  
"No, why should I?"  
"Well, there are ointments that even help with old acne scars," Tarja let him know.  
"There are ointments for crinkles as well," Tuomas replied.  
"What on earth do you mean?" Tarja asked and Tuomas chuckled.  
"Well ... I mean you're getting old," he replied and let his index finger trail along her forehead. "One ..."  
"Asshole!" Tarja gasped but Tuomas didn't stop.  
"Two ..." A small crinkle next to her eye, "three ...", another one. Oh, how he loved her. With and without crinkles. "One says for every year a crinkle. You think I'll find forty?"  
"I hate you," Tarja muttered. "Stop that and continue kissing me."  
"My pleasure, but first you repeat what you just said." Tuomas cupped her cheeks. "Did you say that you love me?"  
"No, jerk, I hate you."  
But she smiled.  
"Oh, I know this 'I hate you.' Please say it again."  
"I hate you," Tarja whispered. It sounded so, so gentle.  
Tuomas smiled. "No you don't."


End file.
